Thursday Th(ink)s - April 2, 2026

Living in my Thursday years feels a lot like Holy Week—caught between the shouts of

“Hosanna” and the silence of “It is finished.” It’s the place where joy and sorrow begin the slow

circle of recognition.

Some Holy Week Thoughts:

Listening to kids talk theology is…enlightening, hilarious, and occasionally troubling.

Their minds tumble through the big ideas like acrobats, flipping, spinning, and landing

somewhere in the big tent of epiphany.

We diligently taught our daughters the Westminster Catechism. Diligently. Post-supper.

Walk-talk. Car-talk. The questions were simple, the answers even simpler:

“Who made you?” God did!

“What else did God make?” Everything!

“Why did He make you and everything?” For His glory!

“Who were your first parents?” Adam and Joyce!

Yes. Adam and Joyce. Good ol’ Joyce.

At this point in our lives, we didn’t even know a Joyce, but apparently Joyce had made

herself known to our little one and in the Garden of Eden there is a house, that has a coffee mug,

with an inscription that states: This mug belongs to Joyce, wife of Adam.

Fast forward a generation: our granddaughter is starting to get her theological ducks in a

row. Learning the deep things of the soul from her mum (the one who knows that Joyce is the

mother of us all).

“Mum, what’s your grandma’s name?”

“Florence.”

“Is she going to visit us?”

“No, she died.”

Beat. Then, solemnly: “Oooooh, on the cross, right Mum?”

Yes, dear. Good ol’ Florence. Died as many grandmas do (according to my

granddaughter) on the cross. Thank you for your sacrifice.

Florence is my mum, the sacrificing grandmother. But I thought Florence’s only sacrifice

was eating the chicken’s wings whilst she fed the rest of her large family the big juicy good bits

of fried chicken. She truly had us all fooled until I became a mother and I saw through her mum-

ruse. She loved chicken wings? Yeah, not likely. So, thank you, Florence. Little did I know that

you gave your all. For the good of the many. For the redemption of our chicken-hearted souls.

That was a cross to bear and you bore it.

Children get it right: every good story needs redemption. But sometimes theology gets

tossed into a mixing bowl without a recipe, and the result is…questionable. Children are still

figuring out sequence—beginning, middle, end. Ingredients, stir, bake…cake. Love and

death…now you’ve got great-grandma and Jesus in the same sentence. And somehow, because

Jesus died on the cross, great-grandma only had to die here—on earth. It’s not wrong, exactly.

Just…unbaked. Redemption is in there—it’s just not fully formed. Maybe it’s enough, for now,

to say: Jesus died. Jesus didn’t stay dead. Jesus is in heaven—with Florence.

And Joyce is just that lady who became our daughter’s pretend friend.

As I’ve aged, I’ve become much more simplistic with my theology. I’ve gone back to the

foundational truths that have carried me through a lifetime. Clarity not complexity. I’ve not

become more certain of everything; I’ve become more certain of less.

Who made me? God did.

Why did he make me? For his glory.

How do I glorify God? By loving him and obeying his commandments.

And…

Jesus lived; Jesus died; Jesus lived. And so will I but only because he provided all the

ingredients for redemption.

This theology is simple enough for a child, sturdy enough for the dying. This theology

can get me through my day, my week, my journey to the end where both Jesus and Florence will

be waiting for me. I don’t know about Joyce. She kinda scares me. I mean where DID she come

from?

Holy Week calls us to reflection, and watching little minds stretch toward divine truths is

a gift. Even as they fumble names or get the chronology slightly off, they echo eternal realities.

They remind us that faith is passed down, shaped gently, wrestled with, and cherished across

generations. And in the riddles, laughter and awe coexist.

Big Brains: “Every child you encounter is a divine appointment.” -Dr. Wess Stafford

Old Souls: “Is it not wonderful news to believe that salvation lies outside ourselves.” -Martin Luther

The Ancient of Days: “But Jesus called them to him, saying, ‘Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God.’” -Luke 18:16 (ESV)

Norma Jean:
I’ve gone back to the foundational truths that have carried me through a lifetime. Clarity not complexity. I’ve not become more certain of everything; I’ve become more certain of less.

Thursday Chat" It’s Holy Week—the week where God’s covenant of redemption was ratified. Feel all the feels. They are many. Which one is sitting with you today?